


Venting Frustrations

by SilverWritingDesk



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal, Anal Sex, Blackmail, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fat - Freeform, Filming, Intersex Sombra, Pantsing, Photography, Spanking, Weight Gain, obese, stuck, stuck in vent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWritingDesk/pseuds/SilverWritingDesk
Summary: It’s been a while since Tracer has been out on a proper Overwatch mission, so she’s ready and raring to go! Sure, she might’ve put on some weight since they were disbanded, making her probably the heaviest member in the group, but she could still run with the rest of them! And a sneaking mission into an abandoned Talon outpost is just what she needs to prove herself once more!
Relationships: Lena "Tracer" Oxton/Sombra | Olivia Colomar
Kudos: 17





	Venting Frustrations

Lena Oxton’s fellow Overwatch members warned her about going to the Talon outpost alone. But regardless of how much weight she was still the fastest in the group, thanks to her Blink! Besides, it was a small outpost anyways. Security there wouldn’t be too tight.

And yet here she was, halfway in an air vent near the floor, with her massive gut keeping her from progressing any farther inward while her hefty breasts kept her from retreating... Each kick of her legs and push with her arms only cemented the fact that she was, indeed, stuck.

“Bugger all,” Tracer grumbled loudly as she dug her palms against the sides of the wall in an attempt to pull herself forward. If she could just get momentum, she’d be golden…

The entire outpost was just a few rooms which were all unfortunately locked tight, so this was the only means of entry she could find that wouldn’t trigger security of sorts. The lights inside seemed to be off as well, so the place very well could have been abandoned, but it was better to not take unnecessary risks.

Judging from her lack of progress for the last fifteen minutes, however, maybe blowing the door open would’ve been a better option.

She couldn’t even reach the communicator in her pocket with how her arms were stuck ahead of her in the vent, flailing about in the room. Maybe if she wiggled her hips enough, she could tap it against the wall and turn it on…? But her waist and hips were so thick and fatty, any coordinated movement like that was next to impossible. There wasn’t even anything inside she could grab onto to pull herself either. Chairs and tables were too far away, and anything sturdy was lost in the darkness inches from her face.

She should’ve stayed more active while in temporary retirement. Overwatch’s original disbandment took a toll on her, and Emily had ways of alleviating the pain. Lots and lots of cooking. Tracer didn’t mind at the time. Four or five meals a day kept her from thinking and worrying too much about her old friends, and the dessert was the perfect way to end the night, cuddling up to Emily on the couch while watching late night television…

Tracer’s tummy rumbled loudly, shaking her out of her train of thought. Her diet plan of just eating less was really starting to bite her in the ass…

With another fruitless wiggle of her rear end, she let out a long sigh, arms going limp and hanging before her helplessly.. Hopefully, her teammates would realize something was wrong upon her not checking in after a while…

But as she settled into her tight metal prison for the time being, a sudden pressure against her bum made her squeak in alarm, head looking around wildly as she tried to see who was behind her.

“O-Oi! Who’s getting handsy back there?” She shouted, kicking her legs as high as she could, which was really just a foot or so off the ground. “Angela, is that you?! Now isn’t the time for a physical, luv!”

The hand feeling her butt certainly felt slender but had long nails that almost dragged against her supple flesh while feeling around the thick curve, before settling on a globe-sized cheek with a loud smack!

“Mi mi mi, ¿qué tenemos aquí?” A voice cooed out in taunting, teasing Spanish. “A little lamb from the cold looking for shelter? I don’t think you have much to worry about with the cold, chica.”

Crap. That was Sombra, wasn’t it? Tracer had heard her voice in recordings… She was an expert hacker whose currency was information. There might have been worse people that could have found her, but she certainly wasn’t glad Sombra had.

“Shut it! Give me a second and I’ll whip you up right proper!” Tracer threatened, bracing her body against the wall once more before starting to push with loud, strained grunts. Her shoes dug into the dirt as she tried to get more leverage… but after a few moments, she gave up with a panting cough, all out of energy.

“... Was that all? You sure showed me, Lena,” Sombra cackled, planting another firm spank on Tracer’s shapely ass that made her squeak in alarm. “Don’t you Overwatch dogs know not to stick your nose in places they don’t belong?”

Tracer felt her cheeks going crimson as her butt idly wiggled in captivity to Sombra’s delight, still passively trying to get some headway in breaking out.

“What’re you gunna do then? Tie me up? Make me talk?” Tracer grumbled, feeling the sweat drip down her forehead from the intense moving she was doing. The fact that squirming was intense exercise for her was more than a little humiliating.

“We do have ways of making little creditos like you squeal…” Another smack was delivered to Tracer’s behind, but this time she was ready for it. She could feel both of Sombra’s hands on her waist now, groping and squeezing the fatty piles while feeling along the ham shanks that were her legs in an improv frisking. “Oh, what’s this?” Sombra removed the communicator from Tracer’s pocket and smirked. “Aww, trying to report what we have here to your friends back home? Cute.”

All it took was a few taps of her hologram interface to hack into the communicator. Enough of Tracer’s voice was logged in the system, so it wasn’t hard to make a lovely little voice modulator that could make the Spanish spy sound like the bubble-butt Brit.

“This is Tracer, checkin’ in. I’m in their base now! Nothin’ I couldn’t handle!” Sombra did her best mockery of Tracer’s accent as she spoke, despite needing to. The sneer on her face showed how she just wanted to humiliate the stuck girl further. “Oi’ll get back to you when I find somethin’ juicy!”

Sombra turned the communicator off and set it aside as she chuckled. Both hands rested against Lena’s doughy bottom, sinking in an inch or two as she hummed.

“So, now it’s just you and me, grasa,” she taunted with foreign tongue, starting to move her hands up and down along the fat, kneading it like bread. “But what to do…?”

Tracer groaned and hid her face in her arms. This was absolutely awful… Now nobody was coming to help her, and she was at the mercy of this total perv!

Sombra already had ideas forming in her twisted little mind. Removing a device from her belt, she held it in the air and turned it on. Metal and plastic shifted and turned as a drone-camera unfolded itself, the lens reflecting the light for a moment before settling on the shapely pear-shaped ass sticking out of the vent.

“We’ll set this up for memories, and then…” Sombra was practically singing to herself. Never before had she been able to capture someone so handily! She didn’t even need to do anything except reap the spoils~

“Wait, y-you’re not filmin’ this are you? Th-That’s a total invasion of my privacy! You can’t do that…!” Tracer whined, kicking her legs up a storm once more, but only for a brief burst in energy. She hoped to maybe kick something important Sombra was carrying to get her to go away, still maintaining some sense of optimism, but with the minimal feedback her kicks gave, she knew she did next to nothing.

“It’s only an invasion of privacy if you got something to hide! Are you feeling guilty? Got something weighing on your shoulders?” Sombra taunted as she tapped her cheek, eyes still locked on that bright yellow ass. “Besides all the ah, crumble and pudding you’ve been indulging on, of course.”

“Ugh! Any more cracks about my weight?! You’re reeeeal original, you are…”

Sombra was at least getting a crack out of it with her little snickers, and that’s all that mattered to her at least.

“Maybe. I’ll have to come up with new material as we go along. But I’m not worried; I got a lot to work with,” Sombra pinched Tracer’s butt this time, making her squeal in sharp pain before growling in anger. “But let’s just… get this out of the way.”

Tracer felt Sombra’s hands being removed from her ass for a moment. The feeling of not feeling her was somehow scarier than actually feeling her and knowing where she was.

Whatever mental quandaries Lena had about her whereabouts were quickly answered when she felt Sombra’s dexterous grip on the waistband of her tights, only to suddenly yank them down her hips and legs.

“Aaaah! P-Put my pants back up right now…!” Tracer squealed with frantic hip wiggles, but there was no way she could stop Sombra from lowering her pants all the way down to her ankles, before tugging them off completely.

“Well, since you asked nicely…” Sombra smiled, putting the tights in a ball and tossing them haphazardly off to the side. Taking the camera, she guided it closer to Tracer’s absolutely massive ass. “You always wanted people to stare at that butt of yours… Your wish has been granted.”

Each ounce of flesh on her butt jostled and wiggled like gelatin when she moved, with little stretch marks adorning all across her bum and waist like dozens of unfinished connect-the-dot puzzles. Little folds in the flesh were especially prevalent where the thighs met her waist, and Sombra could even see the redness where her thighs were constantly rubbing together from her movements.

“Sheesh. Well over three hundred pounds and they’re still keeping you on board? What, are you trying to weigh more than your gorilla friend?” This time when she smacked Tracer’s ass, it stung. Her pants were no longer able to shield her from the direct impact of her slim hand swiping at her stingingly, making the fatty flesh ripple like a stone skating across a pond.

At least she was wearing panties, Tracer thought as she bit her lip to avoid making more noise. Some days she just went without, due to how hard it was to find them in her size, but she was thankful today was a day she elected for it. She mentally promised herself to refill her entire drawer when she got back from this excursion.

And what panties they were! Sombra cackled like a schoolgirl at their silly design. How stereotypical to have the Union Jack branded across her butt… Well, more like wedgied between those thick cheeks. Upon closer inspection, there seemed to be a little cartoon image of Tracer plastered in the middle! Oh, how precious. The poor girl looked like she was being squashed flat by her own butt, though… There was probably some irony in there somewhere.

Maybe Sombra could help free the little chibi Oxton…

With a devilish smirk, she wiggled her fingers in anticipation before reaching down to take firm hold of the waistband of those poor, abused panties. Once Tracer felt that, she dreaded what came next. She was going to be completely naked from the waist down… But Sombra didn’t move her arms down…

She tugged the panties up.

The cloth dug right into Tracer’s privates, making pained noises leave her mouth as she cried out in alarm. Her legs lifted, spreading slightly to try and get some relief from the stinging pain, but she couldn’t get those weights to move any higher. The cloth material stretched as Sombra lifted them higher and higher in the air… Little tears spread across the surface, giving the flag plastered against Tracer’s ass real battle damage before finally releasing it, the material hanging slack around her hips.

Then Sombra finally tugged them down, not needing to put much effort into removing them and thanks to the abuse she had put them through on top of Tracer’s normal treatment trying to cram her fat ass in such tight confines.

“Dios mio, you’re really packing back here! I’m almost jealous. Almost,” Sombra teased, giving Tracer’s ass a firm squeeze. She paused for a moment, before a cackle left her lips. “Are you turned on by this?! Your thighs are absolutely soaked! Hmhm, I suppose it’d only be fair if I took care of that…”

Take care of that…? How in the hell would she do that?

“What’re you scheming?!” Tracer called out, voice echoing throughout the empty building, but Sombra didn’t immediately respond. Sombra didn’t do anything for quite a while, at that.

Then Tracer suddenly felt something warm pressing against her ass. Long, thick, throbbing, shifting up and down between her rump cheeks…

Oh, God, Sombra had a dick and was fixing to shag.

“N-No, don’t you dare!” Tracer snarled, her heart racing as she squirmed up a storm in her confines. Nothing had changed about her predicament, though, so it was no use. Maybe if she got sweaty enough she could break free, or maybe have Sombra’s thrusts push her out…?

“Relax, you’ll be fine,” Sombra noted smugly as she gave the gradually reddening ass a firm thwap while her cock teased between the cheeks further, like a hotdog in a bun three times its size. Her own tights and panties were just lowered down to her knees for easier access. Not that she really had to worry about anyone coming across them here. “With an ass like this, how could I not?”

With that smug note hanging in the air, the Talon spy gave Tracer’s ass one more smack in preparation before she plunged her length right into that fat ass of hers.

Tracer didn’t realize just how thick she was until the first couple inches made its home within her. How in blazes was she managing to hide all of that in that tight suit of hers! It absolutely spread her ass apart as she got into the swing of the motion.

Each push forward made the next bit of her cock slide in, while Tracer’s moans, though slightly muffled thanks to the wall between them, only enticed Sombra to keep pushing in more and more.

Why did it feel so good?! Emily’s strap on did wonders, but holy hell, having the actual thing was one eye opening experience! Tracer felt her cheeks flush, goggles fogging up as they partially slid down her face, while her breasts swayed forward and back in the confines of her jacket with her body’s movements in line with Sombra’s.

“Heh, betcha never had something like this before!” Sombra boasted as she squeezed Tracer’s ass tightly, fingertips sinking deep into the fatty flesh as she got closer to hilting, her balls beginning a rhythmic slap against the fat butt she was claiming, each pump ringing out the fleshy noise like a metronome. “Hell, I’ve never had something like you before…”

“Hmmph, didn’t fancy yourself a chubby chaser, did ya luv?!” Tracer retorted between her girlish squeaks and moans, unable to stop herself from drooling from the pleasure of it. Why did this feel so good…? Tracer’s mind tried figuring out the singular cause, but as she thought more and more about her situation, she realized that it was all contributing to her heated state.

Being stuck like this, being exposed out in the open, being so helpless while having taunts and teasing flirts tossed her way… Lena was discovering so many kinks she didn’t realize she had!

“No shame in that, ‘luv’. But you must love this too, don’t you…? Those aren’t the squeals of a tortured woman… No, you’re enjoying this,” Sombra smirked as she slowed her humping down to a gradual crawl, the length of her cock dragging iiiiin and ooooout niiiiice and slooow, just to taunt the poor girl. “You’re an exhibitionist pig, aren’t you…?”

Tracer bit her lip, hands trembling against the flushed surface of the wall. Her heart was racing, head was foggy… She was so damn horny… and Sombra just wasn’t giving her what she needed now…

“Nnnh… Cram it…” Tracer panted, her voice cracking with need as she spoke. But Sombra picked up on her moment of desperation there.

“Say it. Or else I’m pulling out, and you can figure out this yourself,” Sombra’s voice was cold yet stern, her finger tracing a circle on her rear like she was measuring out the seconds until she responded.

Would Tracer give in…? Her pride was the only thing keeping her going strong at this point, but without Sombra’s help, she’d never find relief…

“I-I’m…” Tracer whimpered, trying to tell herself that she was stronger than that… but all that left her lips was a defeated, “y-your exhibitionist pig…”

Sombra’s face lit up, genuinely surprised at how quickly she gave in. Maybe the bubbly Brit really was into the degradation.

The answer was satisfactory enough for her, making her resume her pumping with renewed vigor. Each thrust picked up the pace, and the strength behind her hips made Tracer think that she was going to pop right out of the vent at this rate!

“Squeal for me!” Sombra shouted as she finally rammed herself down to the hilt, making Tracer’s back arch with a squeal. The vent creaked and groaned around her movements, but she didn’t care. She was getting fucked into next week and it just felt so damn good.

“O-Oink…! Oink, oink, oink…!” Tracer did her best to mimic the squeals and whines of a pig as each hilt of the cock deep inside her body made her voice go up an octave from slutty delight. “S-Squeeeee…!”

Once Tracer’s squeal hit Sombra’s ears, she couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was just too perfect. With a grunt and a gasp, Sombra let go, cumming as she sunk her cock deep into the Overwatch agent’s ass, shuddering with delight. She was quite backed up, so this was absolutely heaven to her.

Tracer briefly felt her mind go to mush as she reached her own climax, trembling against Sombra’s forceful and demanding body before slumping in her vent, limbs hanging low while idle pants and swoons left her ditzy lips.

“Maldita mujer…!” Sombra panted breathlessly as she rested against the hefty ass she claimed as her own. Pulling out slowly, she shot a quick spurt onto her ass to give it a nice frosted look. She hastily rubbed her cock against the folds and ripples along Tracer’s ass to clean up, and worked on fixing her outfit once more. “Hmph. It’s almost a shame that we’ll have to part ways… Hmm…”

Tracer was only half listening to Sombra’s ramblings while she worked mentally on reconnecting the wires in her head. The afterglow was insane… Did she really just have sex with one of her enemies…? At this rate, what was next? Tied to an antenna while she’s forced to kiss Widowmaker’s-

“Boop!” Sombra said, suddenly right in Tracer’s face, making her scream from shock. The light in the room made it so she could barely make out her… ‘partner’s’ face, but the LEDs on her body armor gave the room a sinister purple glow. “I hate to kiss and run, but if you’re interested in more fun…” She placed a piece of paper in Tracer’s cleavage, flashing her a wink as she did. “Call me. Or, maybe I’ll call you. Just don’t forget all the footage I have of our little… encounter.”

Tracer felt her cheeks pale as she stared at her enemy, completely objectified and used… but the idea of having more… excited her. She found herself nodding gently before Sombra stole a kiss on her cheek, followed by a squeeze on the breast.

“Cavalry’s coming, I think. Good luck explaining this to your teammates, mascota,” Sombra’s words were as seductive yet taunting as ever, and with a wave of her hand, she vanished. “Help yourself to the safe house! We cleaned this out a while ago~”

And with that Tracer was alone once more. Still stuck in the vent. Pantsless.

She wasn’t sure how long she was in there after Sombra left. Long enough for her to collect her thoughts on the whole encounter. Enough for her to confirm that she did want more… How shameful. It was so unbecoming of an Overwatch agent to desire such publically taboo things… If any of this got to the public, it’d be a PR nightmare…

Footsteps outside the safe house caught her attention some time later, and she groaned in relief.

“T-Tracer? Is… that you stuck in there?” Angela’s soft voice called out, full of concern and confusion.

“Y-Yeah! Mind givin’ me a hand, doc…? I… I’m in a bit of a pickle here!” Tracer tried to keep up her confident attitude, despite being caught literally with her pants down.

“Where did your pants go…?” She responded in turn. Tracer didn’t blame her, honestly. She would’ve had the same question herself.

“I was… Okay, I took them off to try and help me fit in here,” Tracer lied, while being relieved Mercy couldn’t see her face to see she was lying. “Did… animals run off with them? I thought I heard scurrying…”

There was a pause, possibly Angela trying to figure out if she was lying or not, before she finally seemed to accept her excuse. Maybe she was just pitying her poor teammate.

“You’re in there pretty tight… I’ll… get some spare pants off the ship for you, and then we’ll have Winston pull you free, okay? Just sit tight,” Mercy told her reassuringly, surprising Lena with a gentle touch to the backside, before zooming back to the drop ship.

Tracer exhaled, smiling to herself as she waited for rescue. Finally, this nightmare was over… But the paper in her cleavage crinkled, and as she took out the slip Sombra gave her, she couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of what laid ahead for her.


End file.
